


HIRAETH

by roseorchid



Category: Park Jimin - Fandom, jimin - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseorchid/pseuds/roseorchid
Summary: (n) A deep, wistful, nostalgic sense of longing for home; a home that is no longer or perhaps never was. A yearning and wistful grief for people and things long gone.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> a 'lil warning before you start reading, the first few chapters have been drafts in my laptop for about 2 years, and i matured a lot between 2015 and now so i'll probably rewrite the first chapters sometime in the future but for now this is it. alsooooo this is kinda a place for me to store my trash lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the little prologue, it's super short i know, but i hope you like it nonetheless

It wasn’t before I tumbled and cut open my knee on the playground across the little riverbed, that I saw the little boy dabbing around in the water. I sniffled some of my snot back up, so that if I were to talk, it wouldn’t be that obvious that I was about to cry.

My little feet, covered by shoes that used to be white, dragged me across the mushy, wet sand. I wanted to make it to the water to clean the rough scratch, so that it wouldn’t get infected. I sat down on a big, cold rock and let my legs hang in the water. I couldn’t help it, when I saw the water getting a little red, I started crying anyway.

I didn’t notice the head of the little boy peaking up at the sound of my sobs.

“Little lady? Are you okay?” The voice behind me, startled me and I quickly turned around. Because I turned so swiftly, I lost my balance and fell over, right into the mud.

I expected the little boy to start laughing, but he didn’t. Instead he stayed extremely calm and helped me getting out of the sticky, brown and gross substance. I protested at first, but what harm could he possibly have done? He was so small and fragile.

He filled up a tiny, little bucket with water, one he used earlier to collect stones and came back to me. He started cleaning my dirty legs, after looking for approval with an intense gaze.

“I’m sorry about your dress, little lady. I think it is ruined. It looked really pretty on you, though,” the boy said and looked at me apologetically.

I cleared my throat to speak and thank the boy, but he was quicker.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you to go back home and I’ll tell your mom it was my fault that your dress got dirty, that way she won’t be mad at you.”

I frowned, but nodded.

The little boy grabbed my hand as we walked down the long forest trail.

Somehow, it felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't proofread soz, i hate it hahaha


	2. 01.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he's the first chapter ayy

The cold water hits my face, hoping to free me from my perpetual daze. When I look at my pale face in the mirror, I can see how the blood starts rushing through my face again. My skin again looking lively, a blush adorns my cheeks and cheekbones.

A deep sigh leaves my lips and I hear a second, even more irritated sigh coming from behind me. When I look in the mirror, I can see the reflection of my best friend, and I close my eyes, agitated. I can practically feel her roll her eyes at me.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, hoe,” I fire at her, but she always fires back at me.

“I’ll do whatever I want, bitch.”

She slaps my head and I can practically feel my headache quadruple.

I didn’t do anything wrong though, don’t get me wrong. It sounds like I’m hungover or something, but that’s not the case. I just nudged my head against the little cabinet hanging in the bathroom while brushing my teeth. It happens occasionally, I’m not the most ‘unclumsy’ person.

I apply a little pressure on the red, blue, purple and bloody bump on my forehead and I wince in pain. Again, I receive a slap against the head.

“Why are you even doing that, it will obviously hurt… What are you? Stupid?” She fires at me while grabbing the first-aid kit so that she can take care of my stupidity.

She’s a little rough since she’s pissed off – like usual – but I forgive her, because she has to cope with all of my crap, all the fucking time.

“Oh, for God’s sake! We ran out of disinfectant. You really need some, otherwise it’s going to get infected.” Good thing is, my best friend is studying medicine, so she knows what to do if I fuck up, again. I swear she went to study medicine just to take care of me. I need it.

“It’s fine, I’ll get some at the drugstore,” I tell her before she explodes in annoyance. A lot of people wonder why we’re best friends, because we do nothing other than fight. We fight all the time. But it’s fine, that’s just our way of showing love. We fight and never make up, but love each other to death.

I run to the front door of our dorm and swiftly put on some sneakers and a black, soft coat. Totally not matching my sweatpants and hoodie.

On my way to the drugstore I smile about my own clumsiness, fighting the feeling of wanting to slap myself, hard, with a chair or table.

I’m lucky with the life I can live. I’ve got almost everything I need. I’m studying psychology in a prestige university, I live in a humble dorm and share a room with my all-time best friend. I absolutely adore her and I love my life and the place I live, it just doesn’t completely feel like home though.

They always say that home is where the heart is. If that’s really the case, I’m screwed. I think a dropped my heart somewhere in the mud, because I don’t have a place I particularly feel like home. Until find that place where I can be nostalgic in fifty years, the dorm will have to do.

I walk into the drugstore, get the ludicrous disinfectant and get out of the smelly store as quickly as possible. The weather is getting itchy and I can feel that it’s going to rain soon, so I accelerate my step.

The wind is really strong and I quickly pull my coat tighter around me. Since the wind is howling in my ear, I don’t hear the stranger calling for me at first. It’s only until I hear footsteps dangerously close to me, approaching every second, that I hear the voice.

“Hey! Hello! Miss, you dropped something!” I want to ignore the sound of the male voice at first because I simply don’t care – or at least I don’t want to care, because it’s cold and the weather stinks. It’s only when he calls for me again with an ‘hey little lady’ that I rapidly turn around. I turn so fast that I feel my head spin.

“What did you just call me?” I ask him, a little blunt, not especially pleased with the name he called out for me.

“I’m sorry,” he says “it’s just that you dropped some money and maybe you’ll n-“

He stops speaking and looks at me with this intense gaze. A dumfounded, wistful gaze full of nostalgia and I swear to god that in this moment I’m catapulted into a different time and space and I feel so damn infinite, because I know that gaze.

“Oh my god, it can’t be…” My voice is squeaky.

“I think it is.”

“Nope, I refuse to believe this”

“You should”

“Never”

“You’re still stubborn,” he brings out, followed by that all too familiar snigger.

“And you’re still an asshole. You’ve left me, my friend. It’s been at least four years since I saw you, you dick.” My voice sounds mad and reproachful, but I still smile at him, because how can I not.

The person standing right in front of me is Park Jimin. Jimin Park. Chim. Asshole. Manly noodle. Tiny sprout. Dickhead. Best friend. Park Jimin.

Jimin used to be my childhood friend. Like, we were so inseparable that it became annoying, because Jimin was convinced that I was his sister by blood, it was cute though. Annoying, but cute.

I remember that one time, we were picking flowers out of my angry neighbours garden. Beautiful sunset orange Dutch Tulips. I had always loved tulips, I still do. I think they are beautiful. Once a year, in spring, my angry neighbour had orange tulips and Jimin always wanted to go and get them for me. And every year I was too stubborn to come with him because I was scared that we would get caught.

“You were gone” I say, looking straight through him. Suddenly a lot more serious. “Like, you just left me Park Jimin. From one day to another, like I suddenly disappeared in thin air.”

I can see him swallowing heavily, his gaze softens a bit and on spur of moment, he looks at my forehead.

“What happened?” he asks, delicately. He wants to come closer, his arm reaching out for me, but I step back.

“Nothing. I just bumped my head against the cabinet in my bathroom.”

“That seems like you,” He laughs and for some reason I don’t like him laughing at my stupidity.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

I know I’m being rude. But I haven’t seen that boy for over four years. He just disappeared out of my life, not even telling me why. Not even saying goodbye. He just vanished.

Before he can answer, I speak up again. “I need to go, my best friend is waiting for me. Bye.”

I just turn around and start walking, but not fast enough to hear him mumble sadly.

“Best friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still hate proofreading so lol soz xoxo


End file.
